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Monday, October 29, 2012

Beginning today, Rhiannon's tale continues on e-readers around the world. Every site is different, so please don't freak out if the book is not immediately showing for your device. It'll get there. I promise. I love this story. I mean LOVE it. There's adventure, danger, fighting, faeries, surprises, quests, bloodshed, romance, tension, answers, questions, and a surprising new character who steals the stage. You're gonna love her!

It's been an exhausting weekend, so I'm gonna let you go for now. I have a giveaway planned for later in the week and it involves chocolate! Until then, happy reading.

Thursday, October 25, 2012

I'm a writer. I write what's on my mind, when and where it reaches me. Sometimes, that's in the kitchen. Other times, at the park. Often, in the bedroom. Better yet, inspiration finds me while I'm at work. I'm at work right now and the muse is talking, which is a good thing. I work at a place that encourages my creativity.
While I'm sitting at my desk, typing away, I'm noticing how strange a place my office is. There's more here than just a photo of my family, a stapler, and a phone. There's also adventure and mystery. I'm surrounded by hundreds of objects that add life and color to my working environment. Here are a few of those objects I'm looking at:
A telescope.
A pillow with an embroidered dog on it
An empty flask
A Viking hat
A painting of a dragonfly
A leather purse
A diamond ring
A light bulb

Imagine the fantastic stories that one could create using these objects. The possibilities are neverending. I guess that's why my mind is always spinning, because there's always something odd to inspire me. How about you? What odd things can you see right now?

Thursday, October 18, 2012

She lost everything last season: her
rights as a faerie, her passion, and her love. Still grappling with the loss of
her fiancé, and determined to solve the mystery behind his death, Rhiannon
wants nothing more than forgiveness from the Fae she betrayed. But a raging fire
threatens to destroy her village and the bandit responsible for her pain has
escaped—and he’s coming after her.

Will she redeem the mistakes of her past,
or will everything she’s known and has left to love be consumed by rising
flames?

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

I’m not a social butterfly. Nope.
Never have been. Probably never will be. If there’s an event happening, chances
are I’m off in a corner somewhere away from the excitement. I don’t need
attention, I don’t want attention, and I certainly don’t go looking for
attention. This should not be taken to mean that I don’t like people or I’m
anti-social. I’m really quite friendly. I’m also comfortable in my own skin.

When I was in fourth grade, a substitute
teacher was giving us a lesson about fitting in. “How many of you would like to
be constantly teased?” she asked.

I raised my hand. I had been
teased for as long as I could remember. To me, it was part of life. When I grew
up, Jamie was not a common name for boys.

The substitute called on me and
asked again, “You wouldn’t mind if everyone teased you?”

I shook my head. “It wouldn’t
bother me,” I answered.

Trying to prove a point, the
teacher told everyone in the class that they could tease me during the next
recess. She might have thought I playing the role of the class clown and would
back down, or she might have thought I would come sulking back from recess,
sorry for my answer. (Of course, in today’s
world, she’d be fired for what she did before the school day was done.) Regardless
of her reason, she did it. She told the class to tease me during the next recess.
They teased as best they could. I was called every name imaginable. I was
chased and laughed at and had fingers pointed at me. Guess what? Recess ended,
the teasing ended, and life went on. I didn’t cry, or sulk, or write everyone’s
name down to seek revenge later in life. I took my lumps and moved on. (One
girl tried teasing me after recess and I did get angry then because that wasn’t
in the rules the teacher had given.) After that day, I don’t remember being
teased again. Ever.

My point to this is that all of
us are different for a reason. I think of the human race as a giant puzzle. We’re
all pieces of that puzzle: some might have a straight edge or two; others none;
while all have unique shapes that vary in subtle ways. We each have varying
needs and wants and likes and appearances. And there’s a place for all of us in
the puzzle—that’s what fitting in means. Alone, each piece is only part of the big
picture, and without every piece, the puzzle isn’t complete.

Being a non-social type of person,
I am inspired by stories of those who stand up to bullying and teasing. It’s
hard to deal with such abuse and even harder to face it with strength. There’s
no place for cruelty toward others in this world, and I believe that those who
overcome such things are the champions of humanity.

Sometimes I’m good with words; I
don’t think I was today. I just want people to know that humankind is better
than those who choose to not let people fit in.

Monday, October 1, 2012

Have you ever sat on the
edge of a cliff and watched the sunset take over the landscape? That’s how I feel
right now. There’s nothing special or magnificent about anything in particular
that I want to share, only the love and the peace that I find when exploring my
imagination. I think that’s why I enjoy writing. It’s a chance for me to open
my mind and let ideas create my vision. There are no rules, no guidelines, and
no limits to what can be formed. Find peace in your craft and you’ll never want
for ideas again.